


Planning With A Little Twist

by RedEyes (AggressiveStress)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Clueless Love, Danger, Death, Druid Stiles, Enemies, F/M, Idiots, Kanima, Kitsune, Love, M/M, Mountain Ash, Nemeton, Oblivious, Return, Romance, Sex, Smut, Violence, WereCoyote, Werewolf, Wolfsbane, banshee - Freeform, clueless, druid, fight, gotta have the smut, kate is back, oblivious love, sort of forbidden love, werewolf and human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AggressiveStress/pseuds/RedEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~~~ON HIATUS FOR EDITING~~~<br/>Melissa and the Sheriff are getting married, Stiles only finds comfort during sleep in Derek's bed, they're finally coming up with a way to take the curse off of Stiles, Allison, and Scott, but it requires their enemies coming back to Beacon Hills. Not to mention a few unwanted guests. Derek also wants Stiles, and then his past comes back to him and suddenly everything is spiraling out of control.<br/>Or-<br/>I stink at summaries. This is basically a Sterek fic that I'm sticking with until the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You See My Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My best friends that are encouraging me to put my Sterek feels in my writing.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+best+friends+that+are+encouraging+me+to+put+my+Sterek+feels+in+my+writing.).



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hey, Stiles, can I ask you something?"

And this is how every conversation started these days. No one ever just asked Stiles something right away ever since the Nemeton started messing with his thoughts, which was still going on unfortunately. They were all afraid of sparking up a bad reaction in Stiles, always thought he'd blow a gasket and start having a panic attack in the middle of wherever they were at the time. Most of the pack learned from Scott about how to calm Stiles down- not in the way Lydia did it, which they weren't supposed to talk about ever again according to Lydia- but they still didn't want to chance anything. It was annoying, really, but Stiles never commented on it. He simply closed his eyes for a few seconds, reminded himself that they were only worried for him, and then he would say the exact same thing he always said.  
"No, I'm too busy having a life," he rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Scott snorted, but asked him anyway, "I was wondering if you had done anymore research on the Nemeton with Deaton. Allison said she's starting to get dreams about us again and she's worried she might almost-shoot someone in the face with an arrow again." He desperately tried to make a joke out of it but it was no use; he was honestly worried about his ex no matter how much he denied that he still had feelings for her.

"Not really," Stiles turned away from his laptop, spinning in his chair to face Scott, hands folded on his stomach. "Deaton has me learning about self defense currently, says I need to have something other than a bat when I go running with you wolves. Really, I'd rather use my mad skills with a bat," he swung an invisible bat to prove his point.

"Yeah... keep up with the defense learning," Scott smiled innocently at his best friend, who indignantly huffed.

"I was doing just fine with my bat, thank you very much, Scotty!"

"Do we really need to bring up the time with Jackson as a Kanima? You tried to hit him with a bat, Stiles, and what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about this!" Stiles put his hands over his ears, trying to block Scott out when he continued the dreadful story.

"The bat shattered, Stiles, that's what happened. And then who jumped in front of you so Jackson wouldn't rip your throat out?" Although his words were muffled by the hands Stiles held over his ears, Scott was only talking louder to make sure Stiles heard his every word. So, Stiles did what any sophisticated eighteen-year-old-in-a-total-of-six-months-and-three-days would do, he started screaming  _'la la la la"_ until he could only hear himself. But, Scott was still talking and Stiles could practically hear him say, "Derek, Stiles, that's who jumped in front of you because your bat didn't work."

Once Scott finished talking, Stiles peeked open one eye just to make sure before he dropped his hands. "Are you done insulting my ninja skills, my supposed best friend?"

Scoffing, Scott replied, "I wouldn't have to insult them if they were as good as you apparently think."

"Shut the fuck up. No one asked you anyway."

"Just telling you the truth..." Scott half-sung, hanging his head back over his history text book.

Stiles spun his chair back around, hands landing on his keyboard and he went back to writing his report on feminist literature of different periods; Lydia had given him the idea when his english essay was announced and he had no ideas whatsoever. The essay would be one of the last the class is supposed to write before graduation in three months, and then came the worries of college and what was supposed to happen in the future. Stiles wasn't worried. After everything he had gone through while in the pack, he didn't think college could be much worse. Research is his thing, and schoolwork used to be what he did best but working on schoolwork these days made his head hurt and his fingers cramp up because it just wasn't as interesting or crucial as research on the Kanima or on werewolf habits or on old newspaper articles about murders and such things. It was just... boring and something he had to do if he wanted to graduate; not to mention he had to fight to make sure the letters didn't blend together again. His head was  _aching._

There was only a good twenty minutes of both boys working before Scott piped up again. "Hey, how's your whole closing-the-door thing coming?"

Stiles snorted, "It feels like there's a force field around the door and I just keep running into it again, again, and again until my head hurts and I'm pretty sure I hit my groin a few times too because I feel like absolute shit."

"That was very graphic," Scott winced.

"Imagine how it feels, babe."

"Sometimes I regret speaking with you."

"You can always go pine over Allison instead... No complaints on my part."

He can feel Scott glaring at the back of his head when he replies, "I do not  _pine_ over Allison..." his voice drops to a mutter, probably hoping Stiles won't hear, "not anymore."

Stiles quickly spins in his chair, managing to accidentally throw himself to the floor in the process. He groans when his ass crashes into the hardwood floors of his bedroom but he still managed to point a finger at Scott and scream, "HA! You admit that you were pining!"

Before Scott can scramble to reply, Stiles' door is shoved open and Sheriff Stilinski stands in the doorway with the biggest smile spread across his face. "Boys, I've got great news!"

"Hello to you, too,  _dear_ father," Stiles rolled his eyes playfully.

"Shut up, Stiles," the Sheriff shot back light-heartedly. "But really, I have the best news! The most amazing news! Something that's going to change everything for the better!"

"Now I'm worried."

"Shut up, Stiles," this time it was Scott.

The sheriff seemed to just noticed Stiles on the floor, "Stiles, what are you doing on the floor?"

Stiles opened his mouth, ready to answer as sophisticatedly as he possibly could when Scott cut him off- quite rudely might Stiles add. "Never mind that. Stiles was being clumsy and stupid like usual," Stiles huffed indignantly but Scott once again paid him no mind. _Okay_ , Stiles thought, _is today ignore Stiles' opinion and be mean to him day? Because I think the memo must've gotten lost in the mail._ "What's the news, Sheriff?" Scott asked, oh-so-politely.

"Melissa and I... we're getting married!"

"WHAT?!" both Stiles' and Scott's mouths dropped open because  _damn_ it was about time.

Sheriff Stilinski had finally asked Melissa McCall on a date after they were tied up together in that cellar. Before Chris Argent was tied up with them, the two single parents talked adamantly about what had been happening with the wolves and the creatures to make sure the sheriff was completely caught up, and after that they just had a somewhat normal conversation that kept their minds off their hostage situation. After that, they met up for a friendly coffee meeting just to talk some more- mostly about Scott and Stiles, but still. Once they both finished two coffees and the sheriff had to go back to work, he finally asked Melissa on a  _real_ date. Their two year anniversary was just around the corner, too, but apparently the sheriff couldn't wait any longer.

Stiles was the first to recover, hopping up from the floor and throwing himself into his dad's arms, "That's great, Dad! Absolutely wonderful! I mean, finally someone that can cook!"

"Stiles-" the sheriff started to scold his son.

"I was kidding! Kidding. Jeez," Stiles muttered but smiled when his dad hugged him back. "Really, I'm happy for you."

Both paused when Scott finally got up and the sheriff looked at Scott, almost nervously. "Scott?" he asked.

But Scott smiled brilliantly and joined the hug, brown puppy-dog eyes happy, "This is great news. I'm gonna go home and hug my mom, too." He pulled away and started packing up his books.

Stiles pouted, "But I thought we were about to  _talk_ ," he winked, "about-"

"Bye!" Scott left before Stiles could finish.

"Well then," Stiles huffed, but he was smiling because he knew he could still make Scott all flushed and embarrassed over Allison.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow at Stiles, "What's that about, Stiles?"

"Nothing, nothing," he waved his hand around aimlessly, "So have you thought of any wedding details yet? A place? A date?"

"It literally happened thirty minutes ago, Stiles. I haven't thought past the whole proposing thing."

"Well you better hop to it, big man! This needs to happen pronto before she realizes you aren't very experienced in the bedroom anymore!"

The horrified look the sheriff gave his son was absolutely hysterical and Stiles fell into a pit of giggles. His dad shook his head, said, "I'm ordering a pizza for dinner," before he turned and left the room before Stiles could say anything else. Stiles continued to giggle even as he sat back at his desk, placed his fingers on the keys of his computer, and he got back to work on his paper even though he was still giggling like a little fairy princess to be honest.

 

* * *

 

" _Stilinski!_ " Coach snapped and Scott turned a little in his seat to see Stiles fast asleep, head on his desk. Scott winced, knowing his friend must've not gotten enough sleep the night before just like every night. Reaching over, Scott jabbed Stiles in his side and Stiles jerked up to attention, face rubbed red where it had been resting on his folded arms and a little bit of dried drool at the corner of his mouth.

"Wha?" he asked, looking around, disoriented. Scott nodded to their coach, who was currently red in the face. "Coach," Stiles stated, pointing at the furious man oh-so-smartly. Scott grumbled, slapping his forehead exasperatedly; Stiles gave him a look that clearly said  _"what did I miss?"_

But Coach was already standing in front of Stiles' desk, was slamming his palm down on the top, and was leaning a little bit to get in Stiles' face. "Are you awake now, Stilinski? Have a pleasant sleep?"

"I did, Coach, thanks," Stiles slurred, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"That was rhetorical, Stilinski!" Coach yelled angrily, face getting redder. Scott groaned and Lydia rolled her eyes, turning back to the board; she was used to Stiles getting himself in trouble at this point. "Do you know what that word means, Stilinski? Huh?"

Scott yawned a little, shifting in his seat uncomfortably under Coach's gaze, "It, uh, means to... to... to not answer?"

"Yes! You finally got one right!" the class snickered and Coach pulled away, still eyeing Stiles. "Office called and said your daddy brought you your lunch."

Stiles frowned, "I don't bring lunch from home..."

"Not my problem! Just get to the front office before they call again; I'm sick of those desk people."

Taking his merry time, Stiles stood from his desk and stretched with a loud yawn; Coach glared at his back until he was out of the room and the door slammed shut behind him. Stiles walked to the office, brow furrowed as he thought about why his father was bringing him lunch from home when he never did something like that before. He didn't question it too long though because hey maybe it's McDonalds or something. The office door was propped open when Stiles finally got there- getting mixed up around some areas of the school even though he'd been navigating the school for four years; he blamed his confusion for his lack of sleep- and he found his dad awkwardly standing against the wall.

"Dad?" Stiles asked worriedly.

The sheriff looked up in relief, "Stiles! Son! Come 'ere for a second." Stiles hesitantly walked over, noticing the lack of a McDonalds bag; his dad only carried a plain brown paper bag that couldn't possibly hold anything relatively edible.

"Well, I suppose that bag doesn't hold any greasy fast food, huh?"

His dad rolled his eyes before grabbing Stiles' arm and pulling him into the hallway where they sat down on the bench in front of the office and his dad opened the bag, "Look, I know you're supposed to be in class but this is important. Melissa gave me these," he pulled out a few pictures, putting them in Stiles' hands, "Look like anyone we know?" he asked; Stiles flipped through them.

Most were extremely blurry and dark, but they had obviously brightened them and alternated them as much as possible. In every picture was a head of long brown hair, slender shoulders, a quite athletic body, and a blurry face. Stiles bit his lip and pulled the pictures closer to his eyes until his eyes started to cross and he had to back them up again with a sigh; he didn't see anything except a girl with long brown hair.

"I can't tell," Stiles finally said hopelessly.

"This is the last picture," the sheriff pulled a single picture from the bag to give to Stiles.

This one was obviously zoomed in as close as they could get without blurring the photo too much. It was taken from some video footage from a security camera, apparently, and Stiles sucked in a breath because yeah he knew who that was. Now he could see that the woman had icy eyes that didn't hold any emotion, her clothes were slightly torn, and she was glaring at something outside of the camera's general area. This was the woman that tried to kill Derek and Peter and Scott without anything but hatred; she never followed the code, Stiles remember. Kate Argent stood in front of a gas station in slightly shredded clothing and that gas station definitely looked familiar.

"Wh-when was this taken?" Stiles stuttered.

"Yesterday," the sheriff answered. "I thought I should bring it to you as soon as the pictures came from the security cameras that I had to look through because of something you don't need to know about. It wasn't important, but I have a feeling this is. This is Kate Argent, isn't it? The woman that tried to kill all those," he lowered his voice, "werewolves?"

Stiles nodded mutely, still staring at the photo because this wasn't possible. Kate Argent had been dead for one and a half  _years_ ; she can't just come back to life and appear in Beacon Hills again. There had to be a reasonable explanation such as... as... Stiles thought but he couldn't come up with anything; it was hopeless.

"Oh jeez," Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, foot tapping restlessly against the tiled hallway floor.

Sheriff Stilinski placed a hand on his sons' back to be as reassuring as possible, "What do I need to do, Stiles? I know I'm not really in this like the rest of you, but I am capable of some things."

"Right. Right. A plan. Think, Stiles," Stiles dropped his head, rubbing his temples. "Plan. This is what you do. Come on. Plan something. Plan. We need a plan. Come on  _Stilinski!_ "

"Stiles! Son! Calm down, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Quiet... just- just give me a minute." He holds his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to concentrate. "Okay, for now just keep an eye out for any more appearances for Kate Argent, I'll inform the pack, and then... then... I don't know. Dammit."

The sheriff stood, gripping Stiles' shoulder gently, "Don't hurt yourself over this, Stiles. We have time. Just calm down, alright?"

Stiles nodded, remaining in his spot with his eyes shut even as his dad gathered all the photos back into the bag. This was his thing. Stiles was supposed to be the one that could come up with a better plan than this. He felt so  _aggravated_ and  _angry_ with himself; he hated it. Maybe this is why everyone is so cautious around him lately; because he really could blow a gasket just like he is right now. Forcing his heart rate to return to normal, dropping his hands from his head, and opening his eyes, Stiles calmed himself down before he had a real panic attack and promised that he would come up with a better plan later. Right now, he needed to focus on telling the others.

"You can go," Stiles sighed, seeing his dad unnecessarily standing in front of Stiles still with the bag in hand. "I have to get back to class and I know you have to get back to the station. I'm going to Derek's after school, though, so I might not be home till later."

The sheriff nodded slowly, giving Stiles one more comforting squeeze on the shoulder before he left, bag clutched tightly in his hand. Stiles pressed his palms against his eyes until the bell suddenly rung and he had to get up, but something moved in the parking lot and he turned, walking quickly to the front doors to peer out of the windows. Another flash on the other side of the parking lot made him squint and lean closer, almost pressing his face against the glass. The figure suddenly hopped out from behind a car and Stiles felt pure terror grip him when he saw the long brown hair and smirk on the figures' face. He stumbled back in shock just as Kate Argent turned and strutted out of the parking lot, flicking her hair cockily over her should and yeah Stiles really needed to let everyone else know.


	2. I Can Be Your Hero Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PS: I'm really sorry to those of you like the idea but Scott isn't the Alpha in this story; Derek still is and Scott is still his second-in-command. So everything else happened except Scott becoming the True Alpha... Oh and Boyd and Erica are not dead, either. That will be explained at some point, too.
> 
> Previously: 
> 
> Sheriff Stilinski announces the engagement of himself and Melissa McCall, Scott's mom. Scott makes fun of Stiles' bat skills. Stiles fell out of a chair. And Stiles is shown pictures of Kate Argent, who died a year and a half before but is now caught on a security camera.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stiles didn't speak a word to Scott about it- afraid someone would hear- until they were in the hallway and the final bell of school had rung. He listened idly to Scott talking about something having to do with his mom and the wedding until Isaac turned a corner in the hallway, hand around the strap of his backpack and one of his many scarfs around his neck even though it had to be 60-something degrees outside. He approached Stiles and Scott with a smile and Scott quickly started talking to him about the engagement. Stiles didn't contribute into the conversation, his senses on high alert and himself on edge while they waited. Allison and Lydia rounded the corner next, laughing with each other, and then Aiden and Ethan appeared, walking with Boyd and Erica.

"What's up with you?" Erica asked as soon as they all stopped to stand with the rest of the pack.

"Nothing," Stiles snapped back then winced at himself, "Sorry, sorry. I just..." he dropped his head back against the lockers and groaned in aggravation; Scott furrowed his eyebrows at his friend because Stiles hadn't been this stressed since their parents were locked in that cellar.

Surprisingly, Aiden was the one to speak up, "Is he having a headache? I hear humans have those. Don't you have some medicine or something for that kind of thing?"

Ethan and Aiden were working to prove themselves worthy enough to join the pack. Derek still had his doubts, Isaac still hated them, Boyd insisted that he understood why they had to do it although he isn't pleased, Erica is royally pissed with them, Allison noticed Lydia and Aiden getting along so she put up with them, and Stiles honestly had his doubts but they needed all the help they could get these days. Until Derek saw them fit, the twins would attend pack meetings and they would each have to try and get the rest of the pack to at least tolerate them; if and when they did it, then they'd be accepted into the pack.  _Hell,_ Stiles thought,  _this might be their opportunity to prove themselves_ _._

Even so, Stiles just slowly shook his head, "No medicine. 'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Scott placed his hand on Stiles' forehead worriedly, but there was no temperature and he didn't _smell_ sick.

"I'm fine," Stiles insisted once more. And Scott nodded, dropping his head and turning a little to ask Allison about her day. She immediately launched into talking about a new arrow her dad was introducing her to that night.

Once they were all officially done talking about their days and Scott informed them that Stiles was calling a meeting, they went to their respected ways of transportation. Currently, Scott was still driving his dirtbike, the twins had their motorcycles repaired, Lydia went with Allison in her car, and the other three werewolves just ran. Knowing that the others would most likely stop for a snack or something, Stiles went straight to Derek's loft. He tried not to think about the recent thoughts he'd been having about Derek; mostly at night when he woke up panting and sweating because of another nightmare. He shook himself, steered his mind away from nightmares.

Not surprisingly, Stiles was the first one to step into the elevator that took him up to what they called Derek's bachelor loft. The others were nowhere to be seen. He knocked on the door a couple times until Derek yanked it open, not knowing of the meeting Stiles had called since apparently he doesn't know how to answer his phone. Stiles almost started drooling when he noticed Derek was half naked, a pair of black basketball shorts low on his hips and drops of sweat slowly sliding down his forehead, over his amazing cheekbones, to drop from his chin. Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, dropping his crossed arms and only giving Stiles a better view of his lick-ready abs.

"Stiles?" Derek questioned.

Quickly snapping his gaze to Derek's eyes instead, he tried not to notice the smirk slowly sliding onto Derek's face. "Um, hi, we, uh," he coughed awkwardly. "Were you working out?" he blurts before he can slap a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah..." Derek trailed off, "What are you doing here again?"

"Oh," it all fell on Stiles again and he winced, "Pack meeting. Trust me, it's an emergency."

Derek immediately frowned in concern, opening the door wider to let Stiles come in. "You got paler than normal," Derek noted, "Go sit down, Stiles. You look like you're about to pass out on my floor."

Stiles nodded gratefully and fell onto one of the couches Derek had finally gotten to put in the loft instead of just his bed, desk, and the stuff he had in the kitchen and his bedroom had been moved upstairs now that the extra area was finished being redecorated so before they couldn't even sit on Derek's bed during pack meetings. Derek was thinking about fixing up the old Hale house, though. Was thinking that maybe if he fixed it up that Cora would feel more comfortable although Stiles doubted it considering that's the same house they almost burned to death in. Stiles started when Derek sat down next to him, passing over a glass of ice water.

"Want to talk about it?" Derek asked after a short silence of Stiles sipping at the water, his mind calming some because now he's here. He's with Derek and Kate can't hurt anyone with the Alpha right  _here_.

"I'd rather wait for everyone else," Stiles admitted, not really wanting to explain everything twice.

Derek nodded understandingly, not pushing the younger boy into telling him anyway. "Hey, how was that test you had in math?" he asked instead, trying to steer Stiles' mind off of whatever was making him so pale and nervous and  _scared_. Derek could smell the fear on the boy, and it was unnerving because that's all he could smell from him; Stiles chuckled almost humorously, turning the glass in his fingers.

"You remembered that? Out of all of my rambling, you remember my math test?"

Derek had to fight a small blush when he nodded, "Werewolves are good at remembering things," he insisted.

"Oh," Stiles swallowed.

"You're scared," Derek noted. "This is really serious isn't it?"

"Very."

"How's that training with Deaton going?"

"That was the last thing on my mind, but I guess it's going really well. I mean, I'm not exactly an expert or anything already but I'm pretty sure I could shove some mountain ash down your throat right now if I wanted to... or wolfsbane, but that's locked up at home. Deaton said I should only carry one at a time or else the scent will be too strong and will overpower the rest of my distinctive smell, which I find had to believe because I usually have practice every day after school and I always stink afterwards. But yeah..." Stiles rambled quickly, taking the opportunity that Derek had offered because it did help his mind go to other things.

Derek's eyebrows were raised in shock, "You're carrying mountain ash  _right now_?"

Stiles held up the keys in his hands and Derek flinched away because a small jar of mountain ash was attached to the key ring; Stiles put his keys in his jacket pocket again. "Sorry," he mumbled distractedly.

"How the hell did I not notice that?"

"If it makes you feel any better, neither did any of the other werewolves..."

"No that doesn't help, Stiles. I'm the  _Alpha,_ I'm supposed to be the one that can smell these kinds of things."

"Maybe I overpowered it with whatever smell I regularly carry around," Stiles shrugged just as the door to Derek's loft swung open and in marched Cora and Peter, who were going at each other's necks.

It was a normal thing for the two these days ever since Cora healed; Peter didn't even let her get her bearings for a week before he started purposefully riling her up. He did everything he could from flipping the channel to football as soon as she entered the room to watch whatever he was watching before he flipped it to getting her the wrong dinner from whatever fast food place they were ordering from. It was tiring for the rest of the pack, though. They constantly heard Cora and Peter screaming at each other and Cora had the mouth of a sailor that stubbed his toe a hundred times over, to be honest. 

Cora screamed, "I said no anchovies, you dickhead!"

"Oh, I'm so  _sorry_ , Princess. Really, I am," Peter drawled sarcastically, dropping a pizza box on the kitchen counter.

"No, you aren't! You specifically told them to put extra anchovies... even in the sauce!"

"Okay... yeah, I did that," Peter shrugged, "I like anchovies, though. So it's okay."

"Why the hell are you still here?! All you do is piss the rest of us off!" Cora threw her hands in the air, stomping to the refrigerator and yanking it open so everything on the door shelves clanked together.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Because I'm pack now, believe it or not. And the more pack you have-"

"-the stronger we are," Cora snapped, finishing for him. "Yeah, I  _get_ that. But really do you have to be a douche all the time?"

Pretending to think about it, Peter grabbed his chin and hummed in his throat before he simply said, "Yes. Not to mention I  _am_ your uncle."

"Derek!" Cora yelled before she turned and realized that Derek was sitting on the couch with a paler-than-normal Stiles. She took no mind of Stiles... like always, and instead turned to her older brother and Alpha with rage burning in her eyes, "Please tell him to fuck off. He's annoying me!" Peter huffed, opening the pizza box and making a point of plucking an anchovy off and shoving it into his mouth. Cora literally screamed with rage, flicking off her uncle like he wasn't her elder; Stiles held his head in his hands, and now he had that migraine Aiden had spoken about.

Noticing Stiles' sudden change, Derek glared at both his sister and uncle, "Both of you need to shut up. Stop with the damn screaming and come sit down while we wait for the others."

Cora huffed and threw herself onto a single chair while Peter grabbed the box of pizza and offered it to both Stiles and Derek. Derek took a slice, but Stiles shook his head, muttering about not liking anchovies either. Getting up, Derek went to the kitchen and fixed two regular peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a glass of milk and a banana on the side; Cora watched him with a raised eyebrow but he ignored her. Obviously, Stiles needed someone to watch out for him right now. And since Scott had run off somewhere with the others, Derek took over the position and if he knew Stiles, the boy would really enjoy a couple sandwiches right now. For once, Peter didn't comment and instead ate his pizza in the other single chair while flicking through channels on their television.

"Here," Derek sat back down holding the plate out to Stiles and putting the glass of milk and banana on the coffee table that was in the middle of all the chairs and couches. There were two couches facing each other and two single chairs on either of the empty spaces; the television was hanging on the wall behind the single chair Cora was currently sitting in, flipping through a random magazine she must've found from her stash she kept under the single chair.

Stiles looked at the sandwiches and debated it in his head, "Maybe I shouldn't..." he murmured, not knowing if he could stomach it.

"Hey," Derek made sure Stiles looked at him before he continued, "You need to relax and this'll help. Come on, Stiles. I can barely deal with you when you're hyper-active and super happy all the time. Depressed and scared is worse."

Cracking a smile, Stiles took the sandwiches with a quiet, "Thanks, Derek," and a blush that coated his cheekbones.

 

* * *

 

Scott, Allison, and Lydia arrived together, talking and laughing when they pushed open the door without knocking and went to take their usual seats. The only way everyone fits on the couches and chairs is because each couch is big enough to hold five people, six when Erica sits in Boyd's lap. Stiles had finished his sandwiches, banana, and he was sipping on the milk while Derek sat next to him, studying the way his small bit of color was returning. Stiles didn't say anything when they all sat down, Allison first and then Scott quickly taking the seat beside her; Lydia rolled her eyes and sat on the other end of the couch. Then the twins arrived and Aiden took the seat next to Lydia; she briefly looked at him but then she quickly looked away again. Ethan plopped down between Aiden and Scott, deciding that was the safest way to go.

"Hey, Stiles, how you feeling?" Scott finally broke away from his conversation with Allison to ask. Stiles looked up from where he was looking at Derek's exposed knee because the alpha hadn't even bothered to put on a shirt or actual pants.

"Fine," Stiles briefly glanced at Derek, who met his eyes before quickly looking away again. Peter snorted, but no one paid any mind to him; Cora had noticed it, too, though.

Isaac, Erica, and Boyd arrived and filled up the spaces on Derek's other side, and they all chatted idly for a minute or two. Stiles didn't try to start with what they were actually here for, instead staying silent and staring at his dirtied shoes. It wasn't until Derek nudged him, silently asking him if he was ready to tell everyone whatever he'd been hiding the entire day; Stiles nodded slowly.

"Alright!" Derek almost literally roared and every werewolf and single banshee immediately shut up and looked at Derek. "Stiles brought us here for a reason and you're all forgetting that so I don't want to hear a word from any of you until he's finished, understand?" his eyes briefly flash red.

Peter coughs loudly, "You could've just asked us politely..."

Derek glares at him, "Don't make me send you to your room." Cora laughs at that; Isaac briefly glances at her before quickly looking away when she cast her eyes back on his.

"So, what's going on, Stiles?" Lydia asks before the Hale's could get into it.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair, "Okay so today my dad visited me at school as Scott and Lydia already know, but he wasn't there to actually give me any lunch. Instead, he brought me some pictures..."

When Stiles doesn't continue for a second, his breathing shortening out a little, and the werewolves all heard his heart beating faster. Derek wanted to squeeze his arm or do something to comfort him, but Stiles continued talking before he could even think about it. Not that he was going to do it, Derek quickly reasoned with himself.

"The pictures came from a security camera down at the gas station at the corner of the schools' block. The pictures were of, um, they were of Kate... Argent."

In seconds, the room was in uproar with Peter immediately starting to curse at the top of his lungs. Allison was screaming about how it wasn't true and whatnot, Scott was trying to calm Allison while also freaking out himself, Isaac was panicking with Allison, Cora was asking everyone about who Kate was, and Derek was yelling at everyone to calm down. Stiles curled in on himself, his head pounding and his vision blurring. All of those sleepless nights really must've been catching up to him and he clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to calm his head. He almost started when a hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing lightly; he quickly opened one eye to see it was Derek that was holding his shoulder, staring down at him intently and saying something like "try to block your ears".

As soon as Stiles had his hands over his ears, Derek shifted halfway and then he really did roar over everyone else. It took seconds before they winced and covered their ears, all turning to look at Derek.

"All of you need to shut the hell up and listen!" he glared, eyes red because of his shift.

They sat down again, quiet but anxious now that the news was out. Derek remained standing, removing his hand from Stiles' shoulder, and threateningly looking over his pack.

Stiles rubbed his eyes, "Dad had multiple pictures of her at different gas station; the one at the gas station close to the school was the latest one. That isn't even the worst of it. It may've been the open door in my mind or whatever, but Kate Argent was in the parking lot at school. I saw her hiding, but then she deliberately stepped out so I would see her before she left; I didn't know what to do so I just ran back to class."

Derek was tense, "She's dead. She can't be  _back_."

"Then how is this possible?" Allison argued, crossing her arms. "My aunt was killed by _Derek_ , I know that, but if Stiles saw her in the parking lot and she was caught on camera then how are we supposed to explain something like that?"

"I don't know," Derek replied honestly, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to just think.

"What are you going to do?" Isaac said, mostly to himself.

"I'll kill the bitch again," Peter was starting to stand until Derek shot him a look and he rolled his eyes but sat back down, stretching out his legs. He had a lot of pleasure in knowing that Derek had killed Kate Argent; it was feat, yes, but Derek actually managed to do it and that was probably the best thing he had accomplished because Kate Argent had to go as soon as she helped with that fire.

Cora threw her hands in the air, "If you hadn't noticed, five of us don't know who the hell Kate Argent is and what she did and I think we would all appreciate an explanation!" _  
_

So Derek told them the story of how Kate Argent had come to town and captured Derek, shooting electricity him until he could barely move. He told them about how he got shot with a bullet with wolfsbane and he told them the cure for such a thing, making sure to tell them that Scott was the one that stole the bullet for him. Then he told them about how he finally killed Kate by slicing her throat open. He gave every gory, sad, and downright painful detail until the five were almost regretting asking him in the first place. Stiles was silent, his breathing back to normal but he was in no way ready to actually add anything to the story. However, Isaac, Allison, and Scott added some details along with some more violent details that Peter found necessary to throw it.

"Okay, so what are we going to do?" Ethan asked.

They all shared looks, but, honestly, none of them had any idea until Stiles spoke up.

"We need to talk to Deaton first," he said, "we're doing some training after school tomorrow... I'll talk to him. Until then, everyone should be careful. If Kate Argent is back, no werewolf is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) I really hope this chapter won't suck haha.
> 
> xox- M.
> 
> Title's From: Hero- Enrique Iglesias (http://youtu.be/V0GZe0wz-8g)


	3. Show Me What It's Like To Be The Last One Standing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously:  
> Derek made Stiles two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because he felt the need to help Stiles, who was basically panicking the entire chapter. Stiles got a headache but told everyone about the pictures of Kate Argent. The pack exploded in terror and Derek told those that didn't know of their past with Kate Argent about everything that happened. They still haven't come up with a plan.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was awake again, but that really wasn't surprising. Even if he wanted to sleep, his mind would be plagued with nightmares and tonight they'd probably contain Kate Argent memories and that just wouldn't be fun to wake up to. Stiles rubbed his eyes, turning on his side and staring at his window, trying to find comfort in the fact that his dad had five guns hidden around the house, but Kate Argent was a trained killer. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the images of a bullet tearing through Derek's arm, almost killing him until Scott came through and stole the other bullet; the images were just too painful. Derek had been the one hurt, but it physically and mentally hurt Stiles to uselessly sit to the side as Deaton and Scott did their thing; he felt so useless then. All he could do was annoy the crap out of Derek until Scott arrived.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself because he had school tomorrow and Coach would probably give him a pop quiz for missing the last twenty minutes of his class. Missing sleep was already affecting him; he should at least  _try_ to get a few hours of sleep.

Shifting in bed for the millionth time, he shut his eyes again and held a pillow tightly against his chest and tried to drift off. Images surged forward immediately. The Nemeton, the Darach, the Kanima,  _all of them_ returning and cornering Derek and the rest of the pack. In the images flashing across his eyelids, he's standing helplessly to the side with simple ropes tied loosely around his wrists but he can't snap them because he's a puny human. Then the Darach starts to tear at Derek's body and Stiles is crying, is screaming for her to stop it and leave him- leave all of them alone, but she still tears through his skin. An arm is thrown across the room and now Stiles it shrieking, it tugging at his binds and Derek's eyes are on him, are pleading with him to help him but he can't heal because his arms gone and he's bleeding out.

"DEREK!" he screams, eyes flashing open and jerking up in bed.

He's shaking, sweat is trailing quickly down his face and chest, his breathing is hard and uneven, and he rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. However, it isn't just sweat on his face, but he's crying; he pulled his knees to his chest and sobs into his knees. There had to be a way to close that stupid door because he needs to stop these images; he couldn't go through seeing Derek or any of the others being brutally murdered anymore. It was enough that he had to worry about that during the day, but then he goes and he has to worry about which friend/pack member was getting murdered in his dream that night. Stiles didn't try to go back to sleep after that. He just sat on his bed and stared at his wall, flashes of big, red, sad eyes staring at him until it was seven and his alarm clock was ringing.

 

* * *

 

"Did you get some sleep last night?" was ironically what Scott asked as soon as Stiles pulled into the parking space beside him. Stiles grabs his backpack and gets out, swaying on his feet instantly because his head started to spin. Going almost three weeks without a proper seven hours of sleep a night was killing him, but he forced a smile and walked with Scott towards their school.

"A little bit," Stiles said truthfully. "But then the Darach showed up and it was like a kick to the balls, so I woke up."

Scott winced, whether it was because of Stiles' way of explaining it or it was out of sympathy, Stiles didn't know. "Jeez, man, that's bad. Are you going to make it through the day? You look like you're going to pass out any second."

Stiles looked up at their school name, pasted to the brick wall of the front of the building. He rubbed his eyes when the letters started to blend together; he tested it every morning just in case. "I'll be fine. I'm going to talk to Deaton after school and then we'll come up with a plan and I'll be able to sleep better." Scott looked doubtful so Stiles added, "I promise, dude."

"Calm down about the whole planning thing. You're stressing yourself out."

"Scott, we need a plan, and I can create one just... I need more information first," Stiles said as confidently as he could. He wouldn't have Kate Argent back without some kind of plan that'll keep Derek from getting shot again and some plan to keep all the werewolves safe; he just couldn't think correctly these days. He needed sleep. Stiles decided he would try some sleeping pills; the pills would knock him out in a restless sleep, but at least he'd get a few hours more than usual in before he woke up from whatever nightmare he had kept himself in because of the pills.

"Alright... just, go home if you get too overwhelmed, alright? I'll drive you myself if I have to," Scott squeezed Stiles' arm in a weird sense of comfort. It was a pack thing for the werewolves, Stiles knew, so he didn't comment.

Stiles snorted, "You're banned from ever driving my jeep again, remember?"

"Oh come on! I hit one deer!"

"And you almost hit an old lady! Dude, that's really bad even for you!"

"She came out of nowhere!"

"She walked slower than Derek on Kanima poison!" it was weird how normal that comparison was these days.

Scott laughed at that and they walked to their separate lockers; Stiles threw his books into his locker and tried not to feel absolutely drained when the words on the covers started blending together. He didn't have enough energy to decipher them today. Turning his attention away from any words, he shoved the books he did need first into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and starting to walk to class. Well, he was until someone suddenly plowed straight into his side. It was a force that would make a regular, sleep-pattern-normal student stumble, but it sent a tired Stiles to his ass in the hallway.

"Shit! Stiles!" Lydia shoved through some students to get on the floor next to Stiles. She frowned at him, "Look at the bags under your eyes... when was the last time you slept for more than two hours?"

He rubbed his eyes, exhaling lowly, "I think... three weeks ago when I fell asleep at Derek's place."

"Huh," the smirk on her face made Stiles slightly suspicious.

"What's that look for?"

"What look?" she feigned innocence, grabbing a hand to pull him back onto his feet. "Have you had coffee this morning?"

"Four cups and three espresso shots," he answered.

"Well that definitely isn't healthy."

"But it'll keep me up until lunch. I'm going to crash in the janitor's closet at lunch today."

"It really is that bad, huh?" Stiles nodded silently and she sighed, "Allison is better... I think. Her hands aren't shaking as much now that Scott's constantly with her... again. He's been helping her do something with her breathing and she's really grateful and everything, but it's kinda tough, you know? Scott and Allison will be the death of all of us, I swear," Stiles winces when the word death just has to come into the conversation. "It looks like last night's dream really did a number on you. Wanna talk about it?"

Stiles glanced over at her, seeing her eyes were scanning the hallway like she was looking for someone- oh, right, she's probably looking for Aiden, Stiles reminded himself. "You can go find Aiden, Lydia, I'm fine. I can walk myself to class."

She immediately stopped searching to look back at him, "Not from what I just witnessed. I'm just looking for Allison to make sure she's spending some time away from Scott."

"That sounds a little douchey."

"I don't think I remember asking for your opinion. I'm worried for them, is all."

"They still have feelings, so what?"

"God. Please tell me you did not just ask me that."

"I did."

"You really need to get a girlfriend or... boyfriend... I don't know which way you roll." Stiles stays silent until they get to their class and then they sit across the aisle from each other like always and don't speak to each other. Scott enters soon after, not surprisingly with Allison right behind him; Scott sits in the seat in front of Stiles and Allison sits in front of Lydia, immediately turning in her seat to talk to her friend.

Scott starts a conversation with Danny, who sat next to him, and Stiles turned his head to stare out the window at the woods. When he was little, he remembered how he would stare at those exact same woods through the windows of his kindergarten class and he would think about all the fairies and unicorns lived in there. Now, all he can see are the tracks of wolves, the Kanima, the Darach, and other various mythical creatures that aren't quite as nice as he expected fairies and unicorns to be. Stiles sat up straighter when he saw movement in the woods, he leaned closer to the window; another flash of movement and then a figure steps out of the trees. He held his breath, ready to see Kate Argent, but instead it was a random guy that was obviously either high or drunk; Stiles rubbed a hand down his face and went back to aimlessly staring at the blank board.

Kira comes in first, her dad quickly rushing in after her, and shutting the door tightly behind him. Kira looks at Stiles and Scott with a harsh blush on her cheeks before she shuffles back to her seat; Scott and Stiles share a look but don't talk. They needed to remind themselves that they needed to tell the rest of the pack about what happened in that building when Kira electrified William Barrow; they were mostly about Derek's reaction. The alpha would most likely approach Kira and they didn't want him to scare her off before they could get some answers about her... abilities. Stiles falls asleep in his fifth class and got promptly scolded, but that was the only thing that really happened that day.

 

* * *

 

Deaton looked over Stiles' shoulder, pointing to something in the book he was currently reading through for his training, "You see that?"

Stiles' eyes flickered to the picture and he nodded, "That's the Darach when it's in it's true form."

"Mhm," Deaton hummed, pulling a rolling chair over to sit beside Stiles with another book, one that was much older than the one Stiles held. "Now, this picture," he opened the book to a page about the Darach and pointed to a picture in the corner. Stiles had to squint because the picture was sketched and painted and it was all dark colors, "is an older representation of the Darach. One without the clawing of the face, which is why it looks so different from the one in your book." Stiles hummed, looking between the two pictures and, yeah, they were highly different.

"What happened to learning self defense again?" Stiles asked.

Chuckling lightly, Deaton answered, "We're still working on it, but I wanted you to see this because I know the Darach plagues your mind... They all do, don't they?" Stiles mutely nodded, casting his eyes back to his book. "I thought so. I just want you to remember that there is a way to defeat all of them; I know it took some time and some innocent people passed," Stiles flinched, "but you  _defeated_ all of them, alright? So, when you wake up panting and sweating and scared after a nightmare just remember how you killed the beast and hopefully you'll at least feel better. Okay?" Stiles nodded, once again staying quiet for a second then speaking, changing the subject completely.

"I- We need to talk. This is for the entire pack, not just myself."

"Okay..." Deaton shut their books, "You seem frightened, Stiles, what's happened?"

"Is there a way for... for people to come back to life?" Stiles asked, avoiding his question for the time being. He needed explaining, he didn't have time to explain; Deaton furrowed his eyebrows and thought for a minute.

"I- I've never really heard of something like that before. Well... except..." he got up and disappeared into the bookcase-closet he had where he kept all of his books and other emissary information. The book case was made mostly of mountain ash, just in case; Deaton reappeared carrying a small stack of newspaper articles and a much smaller, almost pocket-sized book. "This was in 1934," Deaton explained when he took his seat again, spreading the papers onto the desk Stiles had spent the last few months studying emissary things at. "A woman had been murdered, throat ripped out and chest full of bullets," Stiles winced because again with the  _death_ , "and they buried her and gave her the ritual passing-away blessing, but something happened. I'm not sure what exactly, but these news articles give an idea."

Stiles picked up the first article, forcing the letters to stay in their places so he could read the title at least:  **Woman Dead Returns.** He scans over the text where it basically talks about how a woman looking similar to the one murdered by the town hall was seen stumbling around the streets near the dead woman's old home. Picking up the next article, and the next, and the next, he read all the titles.  **The Dead Returning?!- Revenge From the Murder of Mary Calelli?- Grave Dug Up- Imposter In the Streets- Family Devastated- Has She Come Back To Us?- Is the Dead Finally Rising?- Witchcraft.** Stiles put them back on the desk, rubbing his eyes because that honestly didn't help him as much as he was hoping.

"Why?" Deaton asked once Stiles was reaching for the little book; he paused and sat back again.

"Yesterday my dad found footage of Kate Argent on a security camera," Stiles told his, scratching nervously at his chin. "The footage was from the day before yesterday and then I think I might've seen Kate in the parking lot of our school, but I don't know for sure. This whole "door being open in my mind" thing has me rethinking everything I see, so... Basically Kate Argent was caught on tape even though Derek killed her a year and a half ago."

"Alright, well, um," Deaton picked up the pocket-sized book and handed it to him. "This just explains the concept of the dead rising. See if you can find something in it tonight and just bring it back to me for our lesson tomorrow, deal?"

Stiles took the booklet and nodded quickly, "Yeah, definitely." There was a short silent pause before he asked, "Hey, can we do some more self-defense stuff? Just in case..."

"Yes, of course, come on then. I want to show you a substance that throws hunters off a trail." Stiles eagerly follows him to his examination room.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles got home, he had a quick dinner of box Chinese food with his dad before he rushed up to his room and fell into his desk chair, booting up his laptop. While it pulled up Google, Stiles started reading through the little booklet that was only seven or eight pages long. By the time Google was pulled up, Stiles had read the booklet twice, but the way it was written was really old and he had trouble keeping the letters from mixing together since they're hand-written. So he set the booklet down, took out his contacts, slid on his glasses which made keeping the words unscrambled a lot easier, and started some research.  **Dead rising myths** , Stiles types into Google, humming under his breath as the results popped up and he went through almost every website on the first page except for the ones from Ask.com and Wikipedia- Stiles would never trust those two again. **  
**

There was a knock on his door as soon as he started to try  **"resurrection"**  instead because his first search was going nowhere. Stiles started at the sudden noise in the quiet of his bedroom, nearly falling out of his chair. He spun around, ready to glare at whoever the hell decided to knock on his window instead of using  _the door_. He stopped short when he saw Derek balancing on the small amount of roof that stuck out from the rest under his window. Derek gestured to the window, telling him to open it considering he had started locking it to keep this from happening.

"I have a front door, you know," Stiles slid the window open, but Derek still unable to get in.

He looked down at the mountain ash on the windowsill incredulously, "The hell, Stiles? Why do you have mountain ash on your windowsill?"

Stiles broke the line with his thumb, allowing the werewolf entry to his bedroom, "Just for a little extra protection. I don't know, I thought it would help me sleep better knowing that big bad werewolves couldn't get in my bedroom." Derek slid inside, landing on his feet with an amount of grace Stiles would never be able to accomplish; he fixed the barrier of mountain ash, deciding Derek could exit using the actual door. "Look, do you care explaining why you're here in the first place? I was busy."

"You didn't come to the pack meeting. I- They-  _We_ were worried," he quickly tried to cover up.

"Oh," Stiles glanced at the clock, seeing it was just past ten when he had agreed to be at Derek's at six with information for the rest of the pack. He rubbed his forehead, just now realizing his brain was aching from all of the new information he had gathered in the past two hours. "Sorry, I was just really eager to start doing some research. The faster I figure out how she's back, the faster the rest of you are safe."

Derek caught his arm, "Stiles, you know the rest of us are here to help, right? This isn't your responsibility. We're a pack. It concerns all of us and we want to help you."

"I know, I just-" Stiles stopped. "I don't know," he finished lamely.

"Tell me what you've figured out already; I'll try to help you."

"It's already ten, wouldn't you rather sleep...?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "I know you won't be going to sleep until you find something significant, so let's hear it."

The alpha lays back on Stiles' bed, briefly closing his eyes and just breathing in the scent that is Stiles; it was different than usual. He could smell the sweat on the sheets Stiles hadn't changed since the night before; he could sense that Stiles had woken up, sweat drenching him and then... could he smell  _tears_? Was Stiles that frightened that he woke up crying? Derek decided not to ask, instead listening to Stiles ramble out some of the information he had found. He explained that in the earlier days, when someone seemed to come back to life that it was always blamed on some kind of witchcraft. It could've been used by making a rising dead potion that the witches would pour in the mouths of the dead ones or they would stand on their grave and cast a spell- either way, witchcraft was always blamed.

Derek listened intently, not interrupting Stiles so he could get everything out without having to pause. When Stiles finished explaining the significance of the Solar Eclipse to the spells and potions, he stopped talking and waited for Derek to say something.

"The Solar Eclipse happened a few days ago, do you think something could've happened to cause all this?"

"Maybe," Stiles rubbed his eyes tiredly, taking note that it took two hours to tell Derek everything. _At least tomorrow's Saturday,_ Stiles thought.

Seeing that Stiles wasn't adding any information, Derek sat up and looked at him curiously. Stiles was rubbing his eyes and yawning tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Hey, Stiles, you can go to sleep if you want." Stiles quickly shook his head, but he shut his laptop and stood to stretch; Derek looked away quickly because the slip of skin showing beneath Stiles' shirt when he did that was not meant to be ogled by Derek.

"No, man, I'm fine. Sleep isn't needed."

"You've been having trouble sleeping, haven't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," Stiles shrugged, "It's no big deal. Nothing too rash."

"Stiles, I can smell the sweat and tears on your sheets. What did you dream about that has you like this?"

Stiles flashes back. He sees Derek's skin red, cuts all through his stomach and amazing abs that were now covered by blood, he saw the tears on Derek's cheeks, and then he saw the Darach viciously ripping his arm from his body. Stiles flinches noticeably, pushing the nightmare from his head and instead focusing on Derek in his bedroom. Derek was in his bedroom. Sitting on his bed. And dammit why was he always so good-looking?

"I don't want to talk about it," Stiles finally said, shaking his head. "Look, I'll go to sleep, but you kind of need to... I dunno, leave?"

Derek snorted but got up, "It's not like you've slept in my bed once or anything."

"That was one time, Derek Hale! And you moved me there. I was perfectly content on the floor."

"Alright then," Derek gestured to the window, but Stiles shook his head.

"You're about to be trained, dog. Use the front door."

"Stiles, your dad puts an alarm on the front door every night at ten. Unless you want me to set it off, I suggest you let me out the window."

Derek smirks victoriously when Stiles dejectedly breaks the barrier to let Derek slip out and then he hurries to fix it again. "Could you try so I can make sure it's sturdy?" Stiles orders and watches when Derek's hand is pushed away by the mountain ash. "Good, alright, thanks," he watches Derek hop down from his window ledge, landing easily even though he dropped two stories.

"Goodnight," Derek nodded to him before he turned and disappeared into the woods.

"Night," Stiles muttered and shut his window, locking it again. He went to get the pills because he wouldn't be getting sleep any time soon on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for any and all Kudos! :3
> 
> xox- M.
> 
> Title's From: Savin' Me- Nickleback (http://youtu.be/Mh3Au31Mqmo)


	4. Standing On the Edge, Am I Better Off Dead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PS: This won't be as depressing as the title sounds. You'll see.
> 
> Previously:  
> Stiles wakes up from another nightmare about Derek (they're usually about Derek these days). Scott is concerned for Stiles. Lydia helps Stiles when he falls in the hallway. Stiles talks to Dr. Deaton about Kate Argent, and then he goes home to research information about resurrection. Derek went over to Stiles' to try and help Stiles with the research.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Allison was waiting for it. She waited in the living room of the apartment she and her dad shared; she slowly cleaned her arrows while she waited for the knock she knew was going to come. It was a matter of time before her aunt came searching for Allison; after the hallucinations Allison had because of her aunt, Allison really didn't want to see the older woman much less let her into their home. Not to mention what she tried to do to both Isaac and Scott; Allison wished she just stayed dead. Her dad was in his office doing some normal business thing that he was trying out, unaware of the situation and Allison figured she should tell him, and she was about to until there was a knock on the door and she felt her heart skip a beat nervously. Slowly, she slipped her knife out of her boot and approached the front door, the knife clutched in her hand that she hid behind her back.

She peered through the looking-hole in the door and let out a breath when she saw it was just Scott; she threw open the door and pulled him into a tight hug. "Woah, hello to you, too," Scott tried to joke, but he was pulling her against him and it was comforting. Allison closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar scent that was  _Scott_ and she loved it; she missed it, but she didn't know if she could get it back with Kira here now.

"Sorry," she whispered and quickly pulled away, slipping her knife carefully back into her ankleboot; he watched the action, slightly amused.

"If it was her, were you just going to stab her?" he asked jokingly.

But Allison nodded seriously and said, "Yeah. And hopefully that time she would've stayed dead. Come in before one of my neighbors starts snooping in on our conversation." Scott laughed a little and stepped into his ex's apartment.

They went straight back to Allison's room, Chris Argent watching, unimpressed when he saw Scott pass his office. He wasn't very fond of werewolves, even Scott who used to give his daughter as much normal in her life as he could manage. Allison shut the door to her room behind them, but she didn't lock it, knowing her dad wouldn't be very happy if he found it locked. Scott situated himself on her bed, already pulling a couple of textbooks out of his backpack, but they honestly didn't have any intention of studying. The textbooks were in case Allison's dad checked in on them; in reality, they would be discussing everything from Kate showing up again to what they needed to be doing to try and get the doors in their minds to close. It had been way too long and Stiles was on the verge of devastation by this point.

"I talked to Deaton," was what Scott started with, nonchalantly flipping to a page in his history textbook.

"What'd he say?" Allison sat down at her desk, throwing her math textbook open to a random page that she didn't even glance at before she was turning her chair to talk to Scott.

He looked up, eyes sad, "He still doesn't know anything about these doors or whatever. He says the best we can do is try and help Stiles because his has affected him the most for some reason... he's in danger of going insane." Allison winced. They had all been afraid of that. With the panic attacks Stiles had been having a little too often, the pack was worried he wasn't just abusing his sleeping patterns but his mind, too.

"Shit," Allison muttered, shutting her eyes and tangling her fingers in her hair, "We have to figure out something to help. Stiles is huge in this pack and sure he can be annoying but he's still... he's made friends with all of us. Even the twins..."

"We'll figure something out," Scott said as steadily as he could, but he could hear the waver in his voice.

"Maybe there's something in our hunter books about it. About the Nemeton and how it affects people." Allison was already turning on her laptop, having copied the files from her dad's computer to her own a while ago. Her dad had been home a lot more lately, always in his office and on his computer doing whatever normal job he had picked up, and Allison was never able to borrow his computer anymore. So she copied all his files onto a flashdrive to upload them on the laptop Lydia gave her the year before for her birthday.

"Try everything."

"I know there's something about the Nemeton somewhere. We might have to go back and check Deaton's books again, too."

"He's only letting himself and Stiles see those books now. He says that he can't be giving information from the books to more than one person at a time, and since Stiles is training to be an emissary then he's the one that gets to see all of them."

"How's Stiles doing with that anyway? Becoming an emissary?"

"Deaton says he's doing better than Deaton had when he was learning. He specifically said that Stiles was working hard and studying and learning things on his own, but getting help from Deaton when he wants to try anything new. I'm a little worried. Look how Deaton's gotten mixed up in all of this, being forced to help the Alpha pack and to take care of our wounds... Do we really thing this is something Stiles should be doing?"

"There's no we about it, Scott," Allison smiled just a little bit. "Stiles wants to do this, and apparently he's good at it, too. Just encourage him, alright? This might be the one thing keeping Stiles completely sane."

"He's learning self-defense, you know. He might be handier than you eventually."

Allison snorted quietly, "Once he can shoot a bow, you let me know."

"You should see what he's done to his house, though. Wolfsbane on every windowsill and at every door; he and the Sheriff constantly have to break it to let me in a room. Even the bathroom."

"Sucks to be a werewolf," Allison sings, smirking.

Scott rested on his stomach, crossing his arms and letting his chin rest on them, "He has every right to do it, I know. But it's unnerving. He says it's because he helps him sleep a little better."

"Well, he needs all the help he can get. With sleep, I mean."

There was a silence for a few minutes as Allison rifled through the logs and information, typing in new keywords to make sure she didn't miss something the first thing she looked through them. Scott waited, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Derek had texted him to say they would be having a pack meeting that night at five and that they all needed to be there. Scott replied that he would have to cancel dinner with his mom, but he could make it; he figured they would've ended up going to Stiles' house for dinner anyway so his mom would be content with the sheriff.

"Pack meeting tonight at five," Scott told Allison, texting Stiles to make sure he had gotten the meeting details.

Allison hummed her agreement, typing in a new keyword. She suddenly stopped her scrolling and scanning to carefully scan the information on the screen; her breath hitched and she quickly waved Scott over. "Come here, Scott. I think I found something." Scott scrambled off the bed, not being as graceful as he could've been, but he didn't care; he basically leaned all the way over Allison to read.

Once he finished, he took pictures of it with his phone, "We'll share this tonight with everyone else. This could definitely help us. Good job," Scott acted on instinct and ended up kissing Allison on the cheek.

They both froze, not turning to look at each other but simply staring forward. Then Allison slowly turned her head, "Did you just-"

"No, I mean... well, yes, but I didn't mean-" Scott stumbled over his words before eventually just shutting his mouth.

Clearing her throat, Allison shut the archives and pulled her math book towards her, "Maybe we should study..."

Scott took his place on her bed again, "Yeah. Studying. I can do that," he muttered, relieved.

 

* * *

 

Derek was on patrol, or look-out, or whatever you wanted to call it. He basically walked around town, looking in every crevice for any sign that Kate Argent had been there; he didn't even find her scent, so he gave up and when back to the loft. Cora was home, laying on the couch with a book and earbuds in her ears, blasting some kind of music that Derek could hear from the kitchen without his wolf hearing. He rifled in their refrigerator, noticing that the grocery shopping Peter had done at the beginning of the week was already disappearing by the mouthful; he settled on a couple of turkey sandwiches. And he was on his way up to his room when Cora finally noticed he was there; she pulled out her earbuds and set down her book quickly.

"Hey, Derek!" she called so he would turn around on his way to the staircase. "Stiles showed up a couple of hours ago looking for you," she told him, "I said he could just wait upstairs in your room until you got back."

"And why couldn't you text me about this?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

Cora rolled her eyes, "I don't have a phone, Derek. You said I couldn't get another one until I paid off the last one that accidentally got crushed when I tried to fight Ennis by myself."

Derek vaguely remembered that but he still just nodded and went upstairs, eating half of one of his sandwiches on the way up. When he got to his room, he was surprised to find Stiles fast asleep on his bed, his laptop open and running laying open beside him. Although it was good that Stiles was sleeping- almost peacefully, too, it looked like- Derek didn't understand why he felt comfortable enough to climb into his bed. There was a couch on the other side of the room that was extremely comfortable, too, but Derek supposed Stiles just decided that 'hey, Derek isn't here let's use his bed'. Oddly enough, it didn't both Derek that much. It should've and it would've a year ago, but he was over it so instead he took Stiles' laptop and let the boy sleep while he ate his sandwich and looked through what the boy had been working on.

" **Witch Resurrections** ," Derek read aloud to himself. He scanned over the article, but didn't find any new information. So he opened up a new tab and decided he would go through Stiles' documents, hoping he would find some information on Stiles' sleeping problems and what they had to do with the Nemeton.

He definitely didn't find the Nemeton, but he did find a folder in his pictures that was clearly titled "Gay Porn" and Derek's eyebrows rose so high on his forehead that his forehead started to hurt a little. Glancing over the screen at Stiles first, he made sure the younger boy was asleep before he double clicked on the folder. Instantly, dozens and dozens of pictures and videos popped up, filling the folder with a total of two hundred and four pictures and videos combined. He scrolled through, taking his merry time to look at the pictures where most expressed positions that Derek didn't even know were possible. He wasn't extremely surprised to see that most included a pair of handcuffs, or a whip, or something else entirely kinky in almost every picture. 

_S_ _o, he likes kinky_ , Derek thought to himself, _interesting_. Then he quickly exited out of the folder because he didn't care. No, that information would never be useful to him.

But his mind was working overtime and he suddenly saw an image of Stiles in his mind that made him excited in his jeans a little too quickly. Stiles with his hand wrapped around his cock, legs spread open, his head thrown back, and his other hand maneuvered so he could fuck himself down on his own fingers. Stiles with his face red, his laptop forgotten on his bedside table where the pictures of porn and a video was pulled up, and his eyes squeezed shut as he pumped himself and desperately tried to put his fingers just  _so_ in himself, but he couldn't find it. He couldn't find that spot on his own even though he was straining to find it, was bending his wrist and his leg was thrown over his arm, which he slithered under his knee so he could get to his hole. His hand moving on his cock, trying to do all these things at once until he finally came, screaming Derek's name.

Derek quietly groaned, palming himself through his jeans. Just the image and suddenly he was in desperate need for a shower and a good fuck... a good fuck with Stiles. His eyes flashed open and he forced himself to calm down, thought about the Darach to do so; he glanced over at Stiles to make sure he was still asleep and he was. Rubbing his palms against his eyes until there were blotches in his vision, Derek finally calmed down enough to go back to searching on Stiles' laptop.

Ten minutes in and Derek had finished his sandwiches and given up on trying to find any information; he didn't know how Stiles did it. Focusing on all of that reading had to be boring as hell especially when you constantly have to study it for someone else. He felt a different respect for Stiles after that, and he didn't wake Stiles, instead pulling a book from his bookshelf and reading while he waited. Stiles needed all the sleep he could get. Derek would be damned if he would be the one to break the first peaceful sleep Stiles had probably gotten in a long time.

 

* * *

 

Stiles wasn't awake when the rest of the pack arrived for the meeting. Derek contemplated waking him, but decided against it quickly; instead, he made sure Stiles was covered with a blanket before he left the room, slowly shutting the door behind him and going downstairs. The pack was gathered on the chairs and couches, but Derek looked around and he didn't like how they looked without Stiles sitting in his usual spot, making the group laugh or groan or tell him to shut up while he was rambling over something stupid. He took his usual spot, waiting until everyone calmed down. They weren't talking too loud and Derek's room was practically soundproof, so he didn't have to worry about the rest of the pack being too loud. Besides, it was a Saturday and most of the pack hadn't seen each other today so they needed a chance to talk before they got down to business.

"Hey, um, where's Stiles?" Ethan piped up, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I was thinking the same thing," Boyd added. "He's only ever missed one other meeting."

Before Derek could reply, Cora answers smugly, "Oh, he's in Derek's bed." There was silence for a second all around the pack and then everyone started talking in loud excitement; Derek shot his sister a glare, and she simply just smirked back at him.

Peter turned straight to Derek and said, "Damn, Nephew, I didn't think you had it in you to mate with a human boy."

"I didn't mate with him," Derek shot back, baring his teeth.

Mockingly holding up his hands, Peter raised an eyebrow, "I smelt your arousal earlier and it lingers in the air now if you concentrate. You were clearly doing  _something_ with Stiles in the room." Derek cursed and Peter laughed at him.

"Guys!" Isaac yelled, getting everyone to quiet long enough for him to say, "Why don't we let Derek explain before we all jump to conclusions?"

"Thank-" Derek started to say but Isaac wasn't finished yet.

"I know we've all been waiting ages for Derek and Stiles to get together, but we should probably make sure before we get our hopes up," Isaac grinned brilliantly and turned to his alpha. " _So_ , Derek, what's going on with you and Stiles?"

The look Derek gave Isaac was enough to make Ennis cringe in fear. "Nothing is going on between me and Stiles. As we all know, Stiles hasn't been able to sleep for longer than an hour or two for a long time. When I came home from patrol, he was asleep in my bed and I'm letting him get some sleep. So all of you calm down," Derek explains seriously; the pack seems to deflate a little.

Erica, Allison, and Lydia even went as far as pouting in disappointment. Derek didn't both asking how long the pack had been suspecting that something would happen between he and Stiles. After what got Derek horny earlier, Derek didn't want to think about the younger boy in any other way than an annoying teenager just like he used to. Before Stiles got older and grew his hair out a little more, before Stiles started working out with Scott and the rest of the pack, before he started maturing- mostly because of what happened with the Nemeton but still- and before Derek noticed how not-annoying he could be. Derek ran his fingers through his hair tiredly; it had been a long day and he just didn't want to think about his situation with Stiles right now.

"... But why  _your_ bed?" Aiden asked.

"Derek's his..." Peter paused so the pack held their breaths, waiting for him to spill a secret. Instead he said, "alpha. He feels protected in his Alpha's bed," he grinned when the pack groaned; Allison even flipped him off.

"But Stiles isn't a werewolf," Lydia interrupted, "The rest of us get that comfort because we're actually his werewolf pack, like no offense you guys but you don't get the same thing because you aren't werewolves. The alpha thing doesn't necessarily apply to Stiles," she stated smartly; Derek regretted teaching her all of that when she wanted to know more about how the werewolf pack and human thing worked.

"We're stopping with this discussion," Derek said before they could start discussing possibilities. "Right now. Instead, we're going to talk about what we're here for in the first place."

"Yeah, what're we doing here? I did have plans you know," Ethan huffed a little under his breath.

Aiden snickered, "Aw, I'm sure Danny will understand."

"I couldn't exactly tell him 'oh, hey, babe, I have a pack meeting so I have to cancel', so do you know what I told him?"

"I'll bite," Allison turned to look at him, "What'd you tell him?"

"I said in these exact words 'Sorry, babe, but I have to cancel tonight. I have a date with my brother and some friends'," his hand hit his forehead and the pack cracked up. "It isn't funny! He's probably super pissed at me right now!" he moaned, burying his face in his hands while his face heated up in embarrassment.

It took a few minutes but the meeting finally took a serious edge. Derek informed them that they were all here because he hadn't found a trail leading to Kate Argent, and that was bad news; the pack knew it was bad without Derek having to say it. Once he was done speaking, he asked if anyone else had anything to add and Scott pulled out his phone, saying that he thinks he and Allison found something having to do with them and the Nemeton situation. Derek took the phone immediately, saying the others could look after him. He read through the multiple paragraphs but a few sentences in particular caught his eye,  ** _"The process of healing will take the Nemeton that cursed the broken, five hunters, four beta werewolves and four alphas, a werecoyote, a Darach, a Kanima, a Kitsune, three Druids/Emissaries, a Banshee, one abuser, one of the abused, two of the forgotten, two of the powerful women, one philosopher, one protector, one healer, one warrior, one virgin, and three of the weakened. A full moon must be present, a spiral must be drawn in the mud beneath the cursed one's feet, but the spiral must be drawn with blood from each of the needed persons; three drops of blood from each at the very_ _least._**

Derek stared at the sentences in shock until Peter took the phone from him and read the entire thing out loud, emphasizing on the same two sentences. The pack shared looks, terror gripping their stomachs because now it was making sense. Kate must've been brought to be the third hunter because the Nemeton was ready to relieve Stiles, Scott, and Allison of their burden. "But... that means..." Isaac stops talking, his stomach rolling uncomfortably and he thinks he's going to throw up.

"They're coming back," Lydia whispered what they were all thinking and suddenly the wedding was the last of their priorities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everybody that's reading! :)
> 
> xox- M.
> 
> Title's From: Fight- Icon For Hire (http://youtu.be/ygI4Ap1J8BQ)


	5. It's Sink or Swim, It's Hit or Miss, Man Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PS: Sorry about the lengthy description of Derek's bedroom. I got carried away. You don't have to read all of it if you don't want to haha.
> 
> Previously:  
> Scott and Allison discussed Stiles in private. Scott accidentally kissed Allison's cheek on instinct, leading to an awkward moment I was terrible at writing. Allison found some very useful but scary information on their Nemeton situation. Derek went on patrol but came home to find Stiles asleep on his bed; he took Stiles' laptop to look for info and instead he found some kinky gay porn. He ends up thinking about Stiles in the sexual sense, but he tells himself he needs to stop. The pack has a meeting. The pack tells Derek it was about time he and Stiles got together until Derek explained what actually happened. Said scary but helpful information is shared with the rest of the pack except Stiles, who Derek lets sleep through the meeting because he was finally sleeping peacefully.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stiles woke up for the first time in months just because, yawning and without sweat or tears dripping from his face. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, feeling completely refreshed and at ease for the first time in a long time until he suddenly realized that he was in Derek's bedroom still and the clock said it was seven in the morning... two days after he had gone to see Derek just for him to not be at the loft. Cursing softly, Stiles scrambled out of Derek's bed and found that his laptop was safely sitting on Derek's mahogany desk, plugged into the wall to charge and everything. A glass of fresh ice water sat on the bedside table and Stiles eagerly drank it, crunching some ice while he tried to figure out what he should say to Derek when he walks downstairs. He doesn't think:  _"Hey, Derek, thanks for letting me use the scent of you on your bed to sleep peacefully. Oh, by the way, you're really hot and you smell really good. So, thanks dude,"_ would go over very nicely with Derek.

So, to keep his mind off of the upcoming future, he looked around Derek's bedroom. This was only the second time he'd been in here; ironically, he had been asleep the first time, too. This time at least he had been awake when he came in, but he didn't pay attention to his surroundings; he went straight to Derek's bed to sit and start doing some more research while he waited for Derek to return from his patrol thingy. Now, though, he looked around and it was definitely tidier than he thought a werewolf would keep it. His bed was huge and covered in dark blue sheets and a black comforter that Stiles knew from experience was the softest, thickest, comfiest comforter ever. There were four dark blue pillows against the big, impressive, hand-carved headboard that had the triple-spiral in the middle; it looked exactly like Derek's tattoo. Each side of the bed had a small wooden bedside table and a lamp; the one on the side Derek must've slept on had a house phone, too.

Going past the bed, a huge bay window was on the wall beside the bed and Stiles guessed it must've been bullet-proof. His mahogany desk had been moved up here, too, so they could make a living room downstairs so the desk faced out the window. A three-person brown couch was pushed against the wall with two stitches pillows on either end with a wooden coffee table sitting in front of it, there was an antique dresser in a corner with a mirror hanging above it, and a small closet. The door to the en suite sat next to the door of the closet; a wooden chest of some kind sat at the end of the bed, a folded quilt thrown over the top like that would stop anyone from opening it. As he was scanning every inch of Derek's wooden floors and off-white walls, he was trying to think of something to say when he saw Derek, but he came up empty-handed every time.

Before he could come up with something better, cooler he heard quiet footsteps coming up the stairs and he panicked, throwing himself back onto the bed. Derek pushed open the door, a beautiful smirk curving up the side of his mouth. Stiles rolled over and sheepishly smiled back at the alpha; honestly, he should've known better that pretending to be asleep would actually work with this man. Derek didn't say anything at first, first handing Stiles a plate with a burger and fries crowded on the plate and can of coke that he placed on the bedside table. Stiles' stomach growled in agreement and Stiles realized that he hadn't eaten for two and half days because he was actually  _sleeping_ in Derek Hale's bed without any interruptions and he felt wonderful so he scarfed down the food in a couple minutes.

"Thank you," Stiles said sincerely when he finished. "I mean, you made me miss a day of school, but thanks anyway."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty. A simple thank you would've sufficed. You  _did_ take my bed for three nights, after all." Stiles promptly fell back into the sheets, slightly disappointed that they no longer smelled like the alpha but still.

"I can't help it that your bed is absolutely amazing," Stiles sighed contentedly; Derek studied him for a second. Stiles then added, "Wait did you technically just call me beautiful? Aw, sourwolf, I'm touched!"

"Are you still calling me that ridiculous name?"

"Until you start smiling and skipping, yes."

"I'm a werewolf. I don't skip."

"Then smile some more, big guy, and we got a deal... maybe." Stiles shut his eyes, breathing in that last hint of Derek's smell. He couldn't help it that the elder man always smelt like chocolate and a pie just coming out of the oven and anything else that was absolutely delicious. _Derek was just... intoxicating,_ Stiles thought almost dreamily, _oh shit I'm pretty that's not what buddies think about their buddies. Quick, Stiles, get that out of your head._ But of course it was too late. Now all Stiles could think about was an intoxicating Derek. _D_ _ammit not again,_ Stiles thought bitterly.

"I'd let you sleep some more, but you should probably be caught up on everything..."

"Right," Stiles sat up again, touching his greasy hair and wincing because jeez he must smell terrible. And with Derek's smelling abilities no doubt made the stench heavy in the air, "Can I take a quick shower first?" Stiles chuckled uneasily, careful of his breath.

Derek nodded, getting up from his couch which Stiles noticed had a pillow at one end, sitting on a folded blanket; he felt his heart skip a beat. Derek Hale had slept on a couch just so Stiles could get a full two and a half days of sleep in his bed and Stiles was so grateful he felt like he could kiss Derek; he refused to admit that he kind of wanted to kiss him, too. Not that he had ever thought about kissing Derek. Especially not when he's in bed, alone, and he's reaching for the ties on his pajama pants. Oh, no, never. That would be inappropriate and wrong. Well, to other people maybe, but to Stiles it might've been a little too normal.

"You've got ten minutes before I flush you out with cold water," Derek warns, tossing a towel in his face.

Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek, eyes scrunching up, "Some of us need our beauty showers, sourwolf."

Derek snorted, "Just hurry up, Stiles."

Hopping up and basically skipping to Derek's en suite, he paused and turned around to say seriously, "I mean it, though. Thank you, Derek," and he shut the bathroom door behind him before Derek could reply.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles finished his shower, he stood with a towel around his waist in the bathroom for thirty minutes because he just remembered he didn't have any spare clothes. His clothes he had been wearing stank and even some of Derek's manly body spray wouldn't really cover up. Stiles shifted the towel on his waist, making sure it didn't fall any lower because then it would expose a little too much. Once the towel was situated, he opened the bathroom door a crack and peered into Derek's bedroom; he breathed out when he found that it was empty. Quickly, he moved to Derek's dresser and tore open the top drawer, ripping out the first pair of red boxers that he found; he went to the bathroom to drop the towel and at least put the boxers on. Of course, they were a little too loose and hung a little low on his skinny hips but he ignored it and went to find some clothes to wear, too.

"What you get for not thinking this through," Stiles muttered as he was grabbing a black t-shirt from Derek's dresser and then going to the second drawer for a pair of sweatpants.

Before he could go back to the bathroom, a voice spoke up from behind him, "Are you stealing my clothes?"

Stiles squeaked, whirling around in shock; he tried not to notice the way Derek quickly looked over him. His dark eyes roaming across his albeit sturdy, broad shoulders, his biceps there were getting there, and the abs he was working hard to get but he still had love handles. Scott told him that love handles were fine, but Stiles was determined to build up some muscle; Deaton said the more muscle he had, the easier it would be for him to use the emissary ways of protecting. Once Derek passed his stomach, that was when Stiles got extremely self-conscious and he covered himself using the shirt and sweatpants he took from Derek's dresser. Derek quickly pulled his gaze up from where he was studying Stiles' thighs and muscled calves.

"Well, you didn't get me any clothes from my house," Stiles defended himself for Derek's earlier question.

"You took my bed and you wanted me to go all the way to your house to get your clothes? Really, Stilinski?"

"My dad!" Stiles suddenly yelled, turning to look for a phone even though he was pretty sure Derek was now studying his ass. "He'll be worried! Dammit, why didn't I think of that as soon as I woke up?! I'm going to be in so much trouble-"

"Woah," Derek was suddenly in front of him, plucking his house phone from Stiles' fingers and putting it back in its holder on his bedside table. "Calm down, Stiles. Scott and I both called your dad to tell him you were fast asleep and we weren't going to wake you up. He said he completely understood and he's glad that you're resting so you should do that for as long as you needed. You're  _fine_ , alright?"

The soothing tone in Derek's voice made Stiles stomach churn and his toes curl because that was, for some reason, very sexy. Derek was used to being what Stiles called a sourwolf, and that's what Stiles was used to, too. Sure, he had seen the soft side of Derek before. Like when Derek stayed by Cora's side while she was sick, holding her hand and taking her pain away as much as he could. But Stiles felt his stomach tightening and his eyes widened in panic; he bolted to the bathroom with the clothes in hand before Derek could notice anything. Derek was left standing alone in his bedroom, staring at the spot Stiles was just in incredulously.

Stiles called weakly through the bathroom door, "Sorry, I got cold! I need to change before my toes fall off!" He heard Derek chuckle and he exhaled in relief.

Quickly, threw on the clothes and tried not to revel in how big the shirt was on him. The sleeves fell past his hands and he happily made sweater paws. He had to pull the string on the sweatpants a little tighter so they wouldn't fall off and the shirt went almost to mid-thigh. He loved the size different, quite honestly. He loved that Derek was broader than him, was more muscled, and was a lot manlier; he was five years older, after all. Once Stiles calmed himself down, he left the bathroom and found that Derek was talking to Scott on the house phone, telling him that Stiles was awake but he wouldn't be going to school.

While Derek talked, Stiles threw himself onto Derek's messy bed and sighed loudly. Derek shot him an amused glance and ended the call soon after. And so, while Derek took a shower of his own (he had been working out while Stiles was in the shower), Stiles stripped Derek's bed of the old sheets that were covered in the scent of Stiles and went to his closet where he found a set of dark red/maroon pillow cases and sheets. He changed the sheets and pillow cases but threw the same comforter over the sheets. He didn't have enough time to throw it in the washing machine because Derek was stepping out of the bedroom just as he had finished making the bed.

"Don't give me that look," Derek instantly said, seeing Stiles staring at him incredulously. Because somehow he had forgotten his clothes, too. Stiles tried not to ogle Derek's chest  _too_ much, but it was so hard not to.

"What look? I don't have a look," Stiles said quickly, tearing his gaze from Derek's chest after memorizing every detail for later reference.

"Did you make my bed?" Derek raised an eyebrow, looking at Stiles oddly.

Stiles blushed a little, "Shut up. It was the least I could do, man. I had to do  _something_."

"I'm just saying that you didn't have to." Derek shrugged and gathered some clothes before he disappeared back into the bathroom.

Five minutes later, Stiles' teeth were brushed with a toothbrush that he deemed as his and left in Derek's bathroom toothbrush holder just in case. Derek hadn't said anything about it, just let Stiles freshen up before he took over the bathroom to brush his own canines. Once they were both finished, Stiles threw himself onto the leather couch in Derek's room and sipped at a coke Derek brought back for him when he went downstairs to grab his cell phone. Apparently, whatever Derek was about to tell Stiles was written in his phone since it was too much for him to remember. Stiles hummed quickly, swishing around the liquid in his can and then taking a sip while Derek went through his pictures; Stiles didn't ask why he had so many pictures on his phone in the first place considering he couldn't take selfies without the flash blocking half his face.

"Here it is," Derek starts reading what was on the screen, occasionally glancing up to see Stiles' reactions. Once he was finished, he waited for Stiles to say something.

"Alright," Stiles says slowly, "Let's try to figure out which ones are already here. Starting with the Nemeton, we can check that off the list... What was next?"

Derek briefly glanced at the screen of his phone, "Hunters... Do you think it means werewolf hunters?" Stiles nods so Derek says, "Well, Kate must be one, then Allison, Chris Argent, but who else?"

Stiles thought for a minute, chewing his bottom lip and then pausing and his eyes widened, "Oh God," he muttered.

"What? Stiles?"

"Gerard," Stiles said breathlessly.

Derek stood and went to his desk, grabbing a notepad and a pen before he sat back down and started to scrawl what they had already on the lines. "Who else, Stiles? Come on. Think."

Stiles shut his eyes and thought back to everything they had dealt with when it came to the hunters. He turned to Derek like he had been slapped, "Derek what about Victoria Argent? Allison's mom?" he said quickly. Derek swallowed harshly and wrote her name down with the rest of the hunters.

"I have a feeling the others aren't going to be much better," Derek murmurs. Stiles laughs humorlessly.

"What's next?"

"Um, four betas."

"Okay so Scott, probably, maybe Isaac? Derek why the hell do you have so many betas?" Stiles curses. "Wait, just skip that one. We'll come back to it. What's next?" he leaned a little closer to Derek to see everything he was writing on the notepad.

"Four alphas," he said, "Well, me for one," he wrote his own name on the paper although it was probably unnecessary. "Deucalion, maybe? He could come back. He's the only one that isn't dead..." Stiles hummed his agreement and they both sat in silence, thinking about all of the alphas that had been in the alpha pack. "The main other ones were Kali and Ennis... do you think...?"

"Write their names down but put a question mark next to them so we know that we aren't positive. What's next?"

"Werecoyote."

"Malia."

"What?"

"What?" Stiles looked at Derek then, his eyes wide. "We never told you about Malia... did we?"

"Who's we? Stiles, what happened when I was gone?"

"Long story short, Scott and I met a werecoyote. We know where she is too; write Malia down and what's next?"

"Darach, Kanima, and Kitsune," Derek read. "That can't be right. Jackson isn't the Kanima anymore."

Stiles holds his head in his hands, groaning loudly, "Fuck. Well, it seems like we're back to Kanima Jackson... The Nemeton is started to piss me off. Dealing with Kanima Jackson was bad the first time... do you think we'll be able to control him this time?"

"Doubt it," Derek waves off, writing the teenager's name down. "Looks like Jennifer or Julia or whatever is coming back, too," he frowned.

"She's probably the least of our problems right now," Stiles rubbed his eyes tiredly. "And the Kitsune... I don't know. Do you know anything about a Kitsune?"

Derek gave him a look that clearly stated ' _no_ '. "Does it look like I would know what a Kitsune is?"

Stiles threw his hands up, "I was just checking. Jeez, calm down sourwolf." Derek smirked and went to the next thing on the list.

"Three druids/emissaries," Derek furrows his eyebrows, "Looks like you'll be needed and you'll be cured..." He wrote down Dr. Deaton, Stiles, and Ms. Morell with the category but Stiles frowned.

"Do you think I'm advanced enough to be considered one already? Derek, it could be someone else."

"No, you're advanced enough to be considered one."

"How would you know?"

"I stopped by once to ask Scott something and I saw you and Deaton practicing." Derek finally looked up, connecting his gaze to Stiles' sincerely, "You're really good, Stiles." The younger boy dropped his head, his cheeks heating up because this was  _Derek_. And Derek keeps being all soft with him and it's great and Stiles really wants to kiss him, but he knows he can't so instead he listens to Derek easily state the next thing, "Banshee, which is Lydia. So, an abuser..." Now Stiles was confused; he straightened up and took the phone from Derek, reading it over but he was right.

Stiles handed the phone back, exasperated, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Wait, the next thing on the list is one of the abused." They both fall silent. Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes wide and worried.

"Please don't tell me-"

"Isaac's father is coming back," Derek murmurs, staring at his phone almost in shock.

Stiles felt a shudder run down his spine. "That means  _anyone_ can come back Derek. Not just the people we've recently killed, but _anyone_ that we've ever killed or known even for just a few seconds. Oh, God. This is not good. This is so, so not okay." Stiles put his head between his knees and he feels Derek hesitantly place a hand on his back, rubbing as soothingly as someone like Derek could manage.

"Hey, calm down, Stiles," Derek tries. "Remember that they're all coming back because you need to get this off of you. You're going to be able to read without having to focus so harshly, you'll be able to sleep without so many nightmares, everything's going to be  _okay_."

After a few seconds, Stiles quietly asks, "Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?"

"Because if I don't, who else is here to do it?"

"Thanks again," Stiles slowly, carefully asks, "What's next?"

"Maybe we shouldn't-"

"Come on, Derek, I'm fine. What's next?"

"Two of the forgotten," Derek reads.

"Well if we've forgotten them, how are we supposed to figure that one out?"

Derek doesn't answer the question and instead moves on, "Two of the powerful women. Okay, that's enough for today. Come on, let's go do something else."

"But, Derek-"

"Let's  _go_ , Stiles. You don't have to figure it all out today. What we need to focus on is finding Kate Argent, okay? But the pack's in school and you need to relax." Derek grabbed Stiles' wrist and pulled him to his feet. Stiles almost stopped breathing when he came a little too close to Derek's face; Derek's eyes scanned over his face quickly, lingering for a second too long on his lips before meeting his eyes again. _  
_

Stiles spoke, "What should we do then?"

Derek licked his lips and Stiles was ready to lunge until Derek suddenly took a step away from him. "TV?" and he left the room before Stiles could say anything.

For a minute, Stiles remained in Derek's room, frowning and watching Derek's back until he disappeared down the stairs. Swallowing harshly, he ran his fingers through his hair and reminded himself that Derek would never make a move on him of all people.  _He just accidentally pulled a little too hard,_ Stiles told himself. He took a few deep breaths before he followed in the alpha's trail, finding Derek making popcorn. Stiles dropped down on a couch and flipped through the channels on their TV, deciding that a day of TV would be relieving right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> xox- M.
> 
> Title's From: Sink Or Swim- Falling In Reverse (http://youtu.be/XXvascWmE0U)

**Author's Note:**

> First Sterek story so hopefully it doesn't suck haha. Thanks for reading! Kudos is much appreciated! :)
> 
> xox- M.
> 
> Title's From: Gives You Hell- American Rejects (http://youtu.be/uxUATkpMQ8A)


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